


The Rising Of The Sun And The Running Of The Deer

by Merixcil



Series: Advent Fics 2018 [21]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Imperialism, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:47:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25366348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merixcil/pseuds/Merixcil
Summary: Cassian tries to cope with being alone on the most important date in the Galactic calendar
Relationships: Cassian Andor & K-2SO
Series: Advent Fics 2018 [21]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1824643
Comments: 2
Kudos: 1





	The Rising Of The Sun And The Running Of The Deer

The chronometer on the dashboard flips over to a new galactic date and a dull sorrow floods the pit of Cassian’s stomach. Below them, the small planet Hanleck glistens in the light of its parent sun, some nine light years behind them. It’s poles are capped with a thick layer of ice which parts to reveal deep blue oceans and green and brown mottled land. Just like the pictures Commander Kalco had issued when he was briefed. You see enough planets, industrialised and unindustrialised and you pick up a sixth sense for which is which on sight. Most places aren’t as obvious as Coruscant, but Cassian knows at a glance that the worst Hanleck will have to offer them is a particularly mean form of Rancor. 

“Are you going to begin descent or are we going to wait for the Empire to topple of its own accord?” K2SO asks. They’re plugged into the control systems of the ship but if the steady hand of the dials is anything to go by, they’re not doing much with it. At first they had been quick to jump the gun, interpreting all given orders in perpetuity, but they’ve gotten better at waiting to be told twice, and so they’ve gotten better at being snarky about it. 

Cassian shakes himself. “Give me a minute. You’ll be on solid ground soon enough.”

“It’s of no concern to me whether we land. I can survive quite happily out here for months. You, on the other hand, require fresh vegetables and clean water within the next twenty four hours, or there’s a ninety six percent chance of you blaming your bad mood on me.”

“I didn’t know you were so worried about my health.” Cassian smiles, reaching forward to flip the engines out of cruise and into landing mode. As he does so, data spikes fly across the front computer screen, confirming that K2 is pulling their weight. 

“On the contrary.” K2 drawls. “My only concern is how much of your forthcoming emotional readout might be directed at me.”

The ship dips towards the planet, heading for the coast on one of the larger landmasses. Right now it’s cast in shadow, but by the time they land it should be nearly sunset. The closer they get, the less able Cassian is to respond to K2′s snide retorts to his every piloting decision, like they couldn’t just take over if they take such great umbrage with how he mans his ships. He can practically feel his father’s hand on his shoulder, urging him to remain calm. 

_Just keep your head down, say nothing. It will all be over soon._

Only the Empire never left, and Fest groaned and cracked under its weight. Cassian watched as his parents dragged away to prisons in undisclosed locations and to this day, he has no idea if they’re still alive. On his worst nights, when he doesn’t have a mission to occupy his hands and the Rebellion base on Dantooine is quiet, he worries that he might die in service of his ideals, and they would never know. 

They touch down at the edge of thick woodland, the strange trees whispering to each other in the dark. The light hauler they’ve been issued for this mission is cramped enough to put strain on a human body but large enough that Cassian doesn’t realise till he's hobbling down the gangway on stiff legs. He blinks, and instinctively looks up to try to make sense of the stars. He can just about see the tail end of the Sky Worm to the east, but otherwise he’s unfamiliar with this part of space. A single moon glows pink in the sky, far enough away that it’s impossible to make out any of the craters on its surface. 

K2SO unfolds themselves gracefully from their space in the cockpit, unplugging themselves from the main computer and lolloping over to Cassian. Not for the first time, Cassian thinks that they’re long limbs must have been designed to look like a miniaturised version of the AT-AT technology. 

The Empire brought AT-AT’s to Fest. Today more than any other, Cassian hopes that every last one of them has been gutted. The Empire doesn’t approve of local traditions, dragging everyone into the cycle of Coruscant festivals. 

“Your attention has been approximately thirteen percent diverted to other matters since the start of this mission.” K2 says, matter of fact. “And my understanding of human body language would indicate a fifty seven percent increase in anger.”

No judgements. Droids don’t judge. Mostly. Save some of the more advanced protocol models. Cassian shrugs. “Today is a big festival on my planet. It’s the first time I have had to spend it alone.”

K2 only begins to get offended when you get short with them, or when you direct your anger at them specifically. They don’t care whether or not the humans they surround themselves with see them as a fully fledged person or not. Truthfully, Cassian probably does, but in his three years with the Rebellion, missing Fire Night has never affected him so deeply, and he needs a scapegoat. 

K2 looks down at Cassian with unblinking metal eyes. They let the silence hang between the two of them for a minute before raising an overlong arm and pointing to the north east. “The coast is in that direction.”

Yeah, of course. K2SO has a personality, not emotions. “How far?”

“Two point nine kilometres.”

They start walking, K2SO frequently getting ahead of Cassian and having to stop for him to catch up. As they walk, the dark turns to a dim blue light pulsing outwards from the eastern horizon till eventually the first slip of red comes pouring out over the land, heralding the sunrise. 

It’s beautiful. Cassian says a silent prayer to the old gods of Fest, and to his ancestors, that no sentient species ever thinks to set up a permanent home here. Hanleck deserves to be left alone. 

He’s supposed to be meeting an arms dealer here sometime in the next week. Someone who has dealt with the Empire in the past but is determined to give it up. Mon Mothma seems to think she may have valuable intel, in addition to being a useful new contact for supplying the growing Rebellion forces. 

Not that Cassian can imagine going into battle for the Rebellion in anything more advanced than a re-purposed passenger ship with an additional blaster turret. They take what they can get, and what he gets is almost inevitably a waiting game with the threat of a firefight hanging over his head.

“Stop.” K2 says, their voice coming soft and low. Cassian pauses, his head snapping forward. In the distance he can see the first shimmer of the ocean, glowing orange in the light of the rising sun. He holds his breath, waiting for a rogue TIE Fighter or Stormtrooper squadron to raise their heads and spell the end of everything for him. 

Instead, the silhouettes that paint themselves on the backdrop of the burnished sky are four legged, with heavy heads and a deep, mournful song that they keep passing back between each other. First a handful, but quickly followed by dozens, a full heard, charging down to the beach. They look somewhat like fathiers, only smaller, with their ears pointed upright. 

It’s nothing, just local wildlife. It’s free, it’s beautiful. The heavy weight in Cassian’s chest feels close to breaking. He draws a shaky breath and with horror, realises that he’s about to cry. 

“Cassian?” K2 lays a hand on his shoulder, like they always do when they’re trying to get his attention. 

Cassian can’t bear to look at them. The hand on his shoulder is cold metal, but warming on contact with his clothing. Hanleck is supposed to be a warm planet, on a sunny day the black chassis of the K2 series should heat up nicely. 

The hand stays, long after the strange animals have passed. Unfeeling and unemotional, or so the manual says. Cassian is the first to start them walking again, down towards the beach where he hopes they won’t disturb the local wildlife. He’s very glad to not be alone on Fire Night. 

**Author's Note:**

> This work was originally posted as part of a multi chaptered 'advent fics' fic that I'm trying to split up. If you think you've read it before, you probably have


End file.
